Red Dawn-The Beginning

"I wish I could believe you Mila, but-" Sam was cut off by the sudden silence as the mighty humvee gave a last gasp before it ran out of fuel. "Well shit."

Sighing he pulled the handbrake up and turned around, only to realise that only Mila was still conscious. "Well double shit."

He leant back and picked up one of the soldier's guns, trying to figure out how it worked. In the process he flicked the safety off and subconsciously squeezed the trigger. The bullet happily passed through the windscreen in front of him.

"Uhhhh. Shit."

Sam put the gun down carefully and looked at Mila. He wasn't sure she'd be able to use a weapon with her hurt arm. "I promise I'll get you back to your family at least Mila. If I can figure out what we're going to do next."

One of the men stirs, the sergeant. He gasps and shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs as yet another man behind them, the man who's arm was mauled, also shakes himself awake. The gunner is gone and the two SWAT officers are still unconscious.

"Longwood, do you read? Longwood, we are sending two UH-60s for a pickup, over. Stay at your current location."

Almost simultaneously, overhead, two Blackhawks fly in, one circling the flames, a gunner shooting a minigun into a few burning figures, while the other Blackhawk lands. Five National Guardsmen rush out, two grabbing the unconscious men and carrying them to the chopper in a fireman's carry. The wounded man is helped as well, and the sergeant talks in low tones to a Lieutenant. Two Guardsmen help Sam and Mila over to the chopper, and another begins to lace the Humvee with explosives.

When everyone is boarded, the pilot yells for everyone to strap in as the chopper begins to take off.

Richmond Community Hospital, VA2:20 p.m. EST

Matthew receives the grim orders from Captain Coles and the Major General: all hospital staff and healthy civilians are to be evacuated to the D.C. military base. He takes ten Rangers with him and heads inside, discreetly informing all eligible individuals of the situation and telling them to go outside. He approaches Mike.

"Shit, what happened?" Matthew says, worried. The doctor was in charge of the hospital and critical to its operations. He evaluates the wound, and one of his medical-trained Rangers looks it over. "It's a flesh wound. I can't tell what damage has been done to any organs. Let's move him out of here." Two of the Rangers carefully pick the doctor up by his feet and hands, and lift him out of the hospital. "Come on, reporter. You're being evacuated," Matt tells Michael, and leads him outside where the first five Blackhawks are beginning to land as military personnel begin to move all assets over to the field, and destroying what can't be brought, while keeping watch over the crowd.

Mila fumbled with her seat's straps for a moment, her hands trembling. She'd only flown once before several years ago, and that was a commercial airliner, not a freaking helicopter. Feeling a little jittery, she tapped a foot anxiously until the chopper finally left the ground, leaving her stomach behind. With her good arm, she held onto York's collar so that he wouldn't try and lick everyone's faces while they were trying to manage an aircraft.

Major General Daniels nodded at the SWAT Chief's plans, although he was not convinced that tear gas and tasers would work if things got truly out of control, but until things did get out of control for the civilian authorities, they sort of did have control of the situation here. At the moment, it seemed the General, the National Guard and the Rangers were in the classic military situation: hurry up and wait. For the moment, it seemed like they were all just cooling their heels, waiting for something to happen. And then something did happen.

Some of the most blood curdling scream Alexander had ever heard emanated from the hospital and that Ranger Lieutenant and his squad excused themselves and rushed into the hospital. Then came gunshots and more screams. He was about to go inside to catch a glimpse of what was going on--it is like the person driving by the serious car accident, they just have to slow down, even stop, and see the mess for themselves--but the looks he received from the SWAT officers and the Ranger Captain and several National Guard troops made him reconsider such an action. He was not a combat man after all and he would likely get in the way. He was smart and realistic enough to realize that. Besides, new orders were coming in over his headset radio. Evacuation did seem logical at this point, especially when he stole a quick glance out at the burgeoning crowd beyond the barricades.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the Lieutenant, his squad and several very frightened civilians exited the hospital. By this point, Captain Cole was briefing the junior officer on the evacuation plans. Having decided to stay out of the way and let the Spec Ops experts handle things, he watched as several Ranger went back into the hospital to prepare people for evacuation, or at least that was what he assumed.

When the Rangers exited, two hefting the wounded Doctor, with the un-sick civilians, Daniels looked up at the sound of the approaching Blackhawks. On a visceral level, it felt odd to feel American troops were retreating on American soil--he had learned his esprit de corps after all--but what else could be done? Walking with several other military personnel towards the makeshift landing site, the Major General stole a glance towards the crowd again. It was looking worse...paler, more drawn, an almost psychotic noticeable from even over here. He saw the Ranger Captain, the National Guard Captain and the SWAT Chief conferring in their own little clique.

Walking alongside Lieutenant Matthew Gibson as they approached the landing zone, Major General Daniels said in hushed tones so that only the junior office could hear him over the din of the choppers and the general pandemonium, "Lieutenant, I hope there is time to get everyone out, but the crowd seems to be getting worse," he motioned back towards the growing throng beyond the barricades.

Sam strapped into his seat and watched the helicopter's rotors continually hum over head. It was almost mesmerising; despite all the noise it felt relaxing too. Suddenly the feeling of lightness passed through Sam and the helicopter had taken off: The noise was extreme but the views....Oh look at the place. It's almost beautiful.

Almost. Beauty didn't normally have the destroyed buildings, the burning bodies or the general signs of destruction. It was beautiful in the same way Chernobyl was.....in the way it told a story. Sam leaned sideways a bit to get a better view and started to giggle. He looked over to York and saw the dog had placed his muzzle on Mila's lap. Mila had looked a little anxious on take off but at least her arm was no longer a complete mess. Sam stifled a laugh. One of the Guardsmen gives Sam a look which was the final straw.

He began to laugh loudly, his whole body shaking with the effort. Still the chopper flew above the ground, the wind whistling in Sam's ears practically screaming at him that he could die at any moment. The laugh turned into a deep belly laugh, tears rolling down his face.

Mila, on the other hand, had finally mustered enough courage to actually look out the window and saw the scene before her in a much different way. Cars were stuck in awkward lines in a major traffic jam along the highways. Tiny dots which she assumed were people (or were once people...) could be seen flitting about randomly, some shambling, others running, and some running after others running. Forests and buildings alike were torn to pieces, most likely by the military, and it all reminded her of some of the worst images from hurricane seasons past.

Sam began to laugh and didn't stop. His laughter grew loud enough that York perked up his ears and turned around the same time that Mila did.

"Don't you see? Sam shouted above the noise, tears still streaming down his face. "It's like a joke! Someone's sick joke! I woke up this morning and had a shower and suddenly now I'm in the apocalypse!"

He threw his arm out to incorporate the crowd below and suddenly stopped laughing. "Day after day they've prayed to their stupid god, told themselves that life has reasons. Well it doesn't! I know that! I've seen it first hand! This isn't the work of god, because there is no bloody god! My mum knew that at the end! I know it too! Only my stupid sister kept believing!"

He looked back out the side of the helicopter and shouted, "Where's god now?! You could have believed in yourselves, but no! You had to believe in the fucking church! Doesn't anyone get the joke? The most popular organisation in the world was pointless! Hahaha!"

He turned so he was facing the inside of the helicopter again and forced a few laughs. "Ha. Bloody ha."

A few of the National Guardsmen shoot Sam glares. One of them crosses himself. "Yo man, shut your trap. You sound sick," one of the soldiers says in a menacing tone. The gunners in both choppers occasionally fire on suspicious figures, but generally seem to be focused on getting to the LZ.

Within a few minutes, the choppers arrive at a war zone. A small part of town has been cordoned off by sandbags and vehicles around what appears to be the Orlando Sanford International Airport. About a few hundred soldiers are holding the base off against a steady line of Wreakers, and some sort of force that is using weapons. The radio chatter is so frantic the chopper pilots turn it off, and begin circling, the minigun gunners opening fire while a few National Guardsmen unbuckle themselves to shoot out the doors, the evacuees forgotten. The Apache circles as well, firing what rounds it has left.

A missile streaks out and connects with the other Blackhawk, sending it into deadly spirals as it begins to rapidly lose altitude, falling towards Sam and Mila's chopper.

Richmond Community Hospital, VA2:30 p.m. EST

Matt shoots the general a glance. "Sir, with all due respect, I think I can speak for my men and Captain Coles when I say we're evacuating only those in the hospital. We can consider all those in that mob infected, with such close range, that the virus has basically contaminated everyone. But we need to move quickly in order to make sure we're gone before the crowd figures out we're leaving."

Rangers and Guardsmen run in and out of the hospital, hustling all the healthy out. A few doctors seem to be being dragged out, as they refuse to leave their patients. Suddenly, more screaming, and two more of the creatures jump out of the hospital, snarling. One of them starts screeching high-pitched, sending a few people to their knees, ears bleeding, causing the other to take them out pretty easily. The not screeching Wreaker seems to be inhumanely strong, snapping peoples' necks and even ripping a doctor's head off.

There is chaos in the crowd, and five more Wreakers, skin gray, eyes red as they rip through people standing in the way. A few confused National Guardsmen turn, but seem to disappear and fall dead as the Wreakers set upon them. Matthew yells for his men to open up, and drops to one knee along with Rangers next to him, who create a firing line. They open up, their bullets connecting with the first few Wreakers and even knocking down a few humans in the way, though Matthew refuses to feel remorse. However, the Wreakers that are slammed down pop right back up, and Matthew turns and shouts. "You! Open fire!" he yells at a minigun gunner, who opens fire, ripping three Wreakers apart into chunks as the Rangers dive to avoid the bullets.

The surviving Wreakers dive inside the hospital, disappearing with a few shrieks.

A redness spread across Mila's cheeks as she listened to Sam's uncanny raving. She knew he was a little eccentric, but this was something new altogether. She wanted to tell him to shut up, but figured this might just be his way of grieving for the family they both assumed he had lost by now. After a while, he cooled off, apparently staring into nowhere, so she just took to looking out the window again.

She tried to make out where they were, but from the helicopter's height, most of the time it was difficult unless she spotted a familiar landmark. Eventually, she began to recognize several roads as the Sanford airport came into sight. As a child, she had fallen asleep to the sound of planes flying overhead when spending the night at her grandfather's house. She wondered if that house had been destroyed too.

Almost without warning, the chopper began circling, Guardsmen firing out of its sides. For a few moments, Mila buried her face in York's fur, trying not to listen to the noise of combat around her. Only when the distinctive sound of metal blasting apart hit her ears did Mila gather enough curiosity to chance a gaze outside.

And then she wished she hadn't.

"BANK LEFT! BANK LEFT!" she screamed to the pilot as two flaming chunks of what had once been another Blackhawk edged ever closer to her craft.

Mike breathed a sigh of relief that medical personnel who actually knew what they were doing could help the doctor. His relief was short lived though when he heard the next words. " Fuck.." he cursed to himself, the last thing he wanted was to be pressed into being a soldier or something. He wasn't one for all that discipline crap and authority didn't have much effect on him beyond a grudging accepting of it. He didn't have any other options though and evacuation sounded jsut fine if it meant getting away from that violent crowd outside and this entire hospital that was filled with infected.

" Alright then, soldier. How's about I get some more ammo for this gun though? I'd like to defend myself and I'll be able to help you guys out on the way out. Get the feeling you'll need it."

Following behind the officer with the gun still in hand. Mike hesitantly checked each corner they went by along with some of the other soldiers, worried they might get another unpleasant surprise from the infected. Stepping outside though made Mike rethink his idea to leave. It was complete chaos outside the hospital now that the crowd was beyond control, reverting back to a feral sense of instinct for survival. Bringing one arm up from the sand and dirt kicked up by the black hawk helicopter that began to descend to pick up the evacuees, the sound was deafening back he stayed near the officer as he conversed with his superior. He only turned to look briefly but he stopped when he saw who it was. "General Alexander Daniels?!" He said in surprise though his voice went little above the sound of the crowd and the helicopters approaching. Now that could of been a huge scoop, a personal interview with the general on this mess. Of course none of that would matter anymore if this was happening worldwide, a lousy interview with a chief of staff woudn't much matter. Another thought occurred to him, how was the government holding up? It must of been chaos, local state government would quickyl dissolve if they hadn't already prepared by calling in the national guard.

High pitched screams broke his train of that and he jerked towards the direction of the sound. Rangers opened fire on a number of these creatures as they tore through the crowd to get to them. People were shot down by the Rangers as the infected ran towards them. Mike felt a pit of horror grow in him but there was nothing he could do and there was nothing the Rangers could do either. He wasn't about to get that kind of blood on his hand, at least not just yet. One of those things though managed to get ahead of his comrades and Mike got a clear shot of the thing. Bringing the gun up he rapidly tried to recall his training on shooting at the range. Breathing out slowly to steady his aim, he gripped the gun tightly for the kick back that would come. He fired twice and managed to hit the thing both times. Once in the jaw and other time in the neck. He didn't see it go down before dissolving back into the crowd but Mike felt a wave of confidence was hover him," Hell yeah! Take that you ugly bastard!" He shouted. Analyzing the situation though, the thing was either dead or extremely pissed off at getting shot. Mike watched the crowd near where the creature had been. He wanted to make sure he finished it off.

The Blackhawk pilot frantically tries to evade the falling pieces, but the rotors strike a large piece and it starts to spiral, and the Blackhawk pilot calls in they're going down. There is gunfire, and the pilot slackens in his seat as blood splatters against the cockpit glass. The co-pilot ducks down and tries to fly the spinning Blackhawk. Meanwhile, National Guardsmen who aren't strapped down hold onto each other and at least three get thrown out, screaming, into open air. The decision to unstrap and shoot out the side of the chopper wasn't turning out to be a good idea. The tail slams into a skyscraper and stops spinning as the engines fail, and the thing goes into a nosedive, smashing into the street cockpit first.

Richmond Community Hospital, Richmond, VA2:31 p.m. EST

The crowd is in a total uproar, and instead of charging the barricades, seem to be being sucked into itself. The front people disappear, and are replaced by the corpse-like faces of infected. Dozens. The screeching creatures vault over the barricades and set upon the nearest humans. Matt's eyes widen. "There's too many! Get in the choppers!" Matthew turns and jumps onto one, firing his M4 frantically at the many targets. The minigun gunner opens up, ripping into some of the infected, providing fire support to keep the things back. Then a knife flies out of now where, sticking the gunner in the face as he goes down. The Wreakers charge forward, eager for fresh blood, the bodies of medical personnel, civilians, and soldiers behind them.

Mike had been watching the crowd the whole time and yet he had no idea when the change happened, it seemed so sudden but it couldn't of been. Disease didn't work that way but then again disease wasn't supposed to make zombies impervious to pain. It was something right out of a horror movie and Mike was watching it happen. That sudden realization of what was happening to the crowd moments ago began to diminish as the scene returned to motion with the infected charging the line of Rangers. Mike was paralyzed, though he didn't feel fear he just couldn't move. He screamed at his legs to run away, to flee and slowly they obeyed.

He was seconds behind the Officer, moving at his side so as to avoid the fury of fire coming from his assault rifle. Mike turned and fired wildly into the crowd, by now the infected were so thick he was positive he hadn't struck anyone that wasn't already lost. As soon as the officer was seated and out of Mike's way. He jumped in and fired a the last two rounds. Taking a seat he clumsily unloaded the clip and loaded a new one. Glancing over to the officer he shouted over the sound of the helicopter," I think this is what you guys call FUBAR, right?! Then how's about getting the hell out of dodge!?"

"York! Here boy!" Mila cried as they began to spiral, reaching out her arms to gather the husky into her lap. She knew that if they went down, the only way her dog was going to survive not strapped in was if she held onto him for dear life. Her screams mingled with those of the gunners as they were tossed from the crashing helicopter prematurely.

By the time the Blackhawk's tail made contact with a nearby building, they were still several stories up, and the chopper started to head nose-first for the concrete below. Mila felt sick to her stomach from all the spinning, and even with her eyes tightly shut, she couldn't avoid blacking out just for the last few seconds before being slammed into her harness.

When all finally settled, Mila could barely breathe from being held in place while her body wanted to keep going from the momentum. Her neck was aching and her collarbone felt like it was on fire, but she was alive, which was more than she would assume could be said for some of the others. To her left, Sam was breathing, but not moving. York had hit the back of the seat which was now below Mila, but her grip on him had kept him from flying out of the doors after the Guardsmen. The dog whimpered pitifully as it stirred, trying to stand but yelping as it put weight on one paw.

Despite the overwhelming pain in her torso that she knew was going to be one helluva bruise, Mila unhooked herself and carefully dropped to the new "floor" of the aircraft. A few of the other people who had kept themselves strapped in were now doing the same. A few lights in the cabin were flickering and one stubborn warning klaxon continued to blare despite most of the electronic systems being smashed to bits.

"Sam...? Sam, wake up," she said nervously, nudging his shoulders gently as she hoped he was going to be alright. It was bad enough that she didn't have her family with her, but she definitely didn't want to be alone with only the military around. Another civilian, especially one she was starting to get to know, was much more welcome.

It was then that she noticed the smell.

Something was burning, and she had a feeling it was the Blackhawk. Quickly, she tried to undo Sam's harnesses, getting no help from the remaining Guardsmen or SWAT team who had already fled the aircraft, firing their weapons.

Wait. Oh fuck. What were they firing at?

"Oh please tell me we didn't land in the middle of everything. That would just be the piss icing on top of this shit cake," she thought grimly.

Finally, after much struggling, she managed to pull Sam down, though none-too-gracefully. Her arm had started throbbing again, and when coupled with her tender skin from the crash, as soon as she caught him, she ended up nearly dropping him completely. York hobbled over and began licking Sam's face, trying to wake him up, but Mila knew they didn't have time for that. They had to get out of the helicopter.

Cringing from the strain on her sore, thin frame, Mila dragged Sam to the edge and looked outside. Before her, the other crash survivors were firing weapons uselessly against a horde of wreakers who were advancing every moment. Behind her, she could hear the rest of the small military force trying to give support, but unable to come to their rescue.

"Wait a sec!" Matt yells, yanking aboard a wounded man as four more Guardsmen clambered on. Matt grabs the minigun and opens fire, mowing down a few infected in front. One leaps with unnatural speed and snags a man jumping onto the chopper, and the man goes flying as he is thrown, screaming, into the crowd behind. A Guardsman slams a six inch long knife into the infected's chest and blows chunks of it off with his M249 SAW, and the infected falls of the chopper. "Go go!" Matt yells, and the scared pilots lift the UH-60 off the ground, the others following suite as they fall into formation, the gunners firing into the crowd, no one caring about possible civilian casualties. Several F-18/A fighters come in, bombing the hell out of the infected horde, and after a while they see two AH-64 Apaches and an AC-130 gunship flying in to finish the job.

Sanford, FLOrlando Sanford International Airport2:32 p.m. EST

Just as they step outside, a man gets taken out by a bullet from somewhere, and drops, blood spewing all over Sam. Most of the survivors are hiding, and one is frantically trying to call in support on the radio.

The horde advances steadily, and the only reason they are held back is by a detached minigun. A Guardsmen presses a rifle into Mila's hands. "Help the hell out!" Suddenly, the Wreakers are upon them. Four rip into the Guardsmen, two of them with inhuman strength, and the other two with speed. Four Guardsmen go down in a few minutes after a few scattered shots, and one turns to Mila and Sam.....

"I don't know how to use this thi--" Mila began to say, but stopped short. Before she could finish her sentence, the man who'd given her the rifle had been torn to bits. "Time to learn," she decided. She only knew a few things about guns. For one, they had a safety feature which would have to be off before she could fire, but it was likely already off since it had just been used; the gun was still warm. Guns also had some serious kickback. She'd seen plenty of idiots trying to handle weapons on the internet only to get smacked in the face.

Bracing as best she could with the heavy rifle, her body rebelled against the additional strain, but she ignored it. More important was the wreaker heading her way. She didn't bother looking down the sights, as there really wasn't time, and simply pulled the trigger. Her first shots went around her target, but actually hit another wreaker further off, sending it down. As she continued the spray, she tried to readjust, but her aim actually only put the haze of bullets at the thing's midsection. The wreaker shrugged it off and kept lumbering towards them.

What might have otherwise gotten her killed actually saved them all for the time being. As she swung the rifle to readjust, she lost her balance from the kickback and fell onto her back, which sent the gun's bullet path upwards and through the wreaker until it ended at his head, blasting it into a messy goo just as it reached Sam. The creature fell over, landing partially on top of him.

Meanwhile, tears streaked down Mila's face as she sat up. Although she had braced relatively well for having no training, the force of the rifle had sent its stock into her already weak collarbone, thus dislocating it from the sternum completely on one side. She had never felt so much pain in all her life, but she knew she had to stay conscious despite her swimming vision. She tried to get up to drag Sam away from the oncoming horde, as she knew she wouldn't be able to use the weapon again, but even the tiniest movement of her arms now caused her to cry out in agony.

"What...?" There was screaming, wetness and a awful lot of pain. There was a weight on Sam too......a dead weight.

"OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTT," Sam shouted plainly as he saw the downed helicopter, the battered Mila and the approaching throng of infected. Sam pulled himself up and noticed the look of pain on Mila's face; choosing not to ask about it he simply took the gun from her and lined it up.

And hesitated.

Regardless of insane tendancies and want for flesh these things still seemed very alive. Or, at least, they had faces. And made noise. Here was one now, it was so human the way it grabbed his arm, so human the way it pulled his arm towards it's mouth, so human the way it started to close it's jaws.

"Get off you twat!" Sam shouted, pushing the gun barrel to the thing's forehead and pressing the trigger in panic. Bits of brain shattered everywhere. Most of it went over Sam. He turned to Mila and looked like he was about to faint. Which was lucky, because right behind her was one of the quicker zombies. It had been feasting on one of the corpses, but now it was starting to charge for her.

So Sam charged at it. Slowly, as his pain manifested itself in his leg, but just quick enough to get past Mila and find himself face to face with one of the infected. The only good news was that the infected was trying to chew on the barrel of the gun. Sam grimaced and depressed the trigger.

Turning once more to Mila he raised the gun at the crowd and tried to actually line up a shot. There was a click.

"You got to be shitting me......." Sam reveresed the gun so he was holding it like a bat and shouted at Mila, "We got to get out of here!"

Sam glanced around in a panic and noticed a building not too far away. The very skyscraper the helicopter had collided with. He backed towards Mila and pointed at it urgently, "Can you walk? We got to get there now."

Mila watched as Sam did a much better job at handling the weapon than she had, but didn't have the time to be jealous. As soon as he'd splattered one wreaker's face all over himself, he turned to look at her but then quickly looked at something behind her. Something she could now hear distinctly heading straight for her at quite the rapid pace.

She turned just slightly and her heart began to hammer in her chest as she stared into the hating, blood-red eyes of a monster, mouth agape and dripping with the blood of its last kill. With a squeak of terror, she lifted her uninjured arm until it was between her and the beast, but soon found she didn't need to. Sam stepped boldly in front of her at just the right moment to shove the rifle into the thing's mouth and essentially repeat his last kill from a different angle.

Mila forced herself to stand, knowing Sam's urgings to be truth. "Yeah, I can walk. Just don't ask me to lift anything or I might pass out," she responded as the trio made their way toward the partially damaged flight control tower. Mila was able to keep a fairly decent run speed as long as she held her wounded side still, and York kept up relatively well, probably because he had an extra two-leg advantage over the humans. Mila looked to Sam as she ran, "Are you hurt anywhere?"

A slower type of wreaker was ambling towards him so, this time without hesitating, he clubbed it round the side of the head with the gun. It didn't kill the thing but did send it toppling backwards, out of the way enough to no longer be such a problem.

"It's...it's...kind of....fun....in a...way," Sam panted as he limped, "The adrenaline bit at least. I'm trying to forget the fact I killed two people today!"

He reached the door and grapsed the handle desperately, it would not budge which was a good sign it was locked, so Sam smashed at it with the gun butt until the glass pane broke and he could reach through and undo it. "Can you be my witness when the court case comes? I feel a local voice may help me somewhat."

It was a crap joke, but humour was better then nothing. It's the adrenaline, it's like the world's best high!

He closed the door behind Mila and limped forwards, only to see a ghastly site. "Stairs? I hate stairs!" He paused at the bottom and giggled slightly, "I hate...stairs...like Francis...you know? Like in the game....oh never mind."

Sam made slow steps up the stairs, wincing with every time he moved his right leg. "Maybe.....just maybe...there'll be cake at the top."

"Hey, you know what? We're even! Two and two. Like it's some sick kinda game we're playing," Mila said as they made their way closer to the building. She noted that it almost didn't bother her at all seeing Sam whack the shambling guy as they went, which meant she was starting to get desensitized to it. She suddenly wished she had picked up something, anything, to use as a bludgeoning tool if necessary. Although she wasn't nearly as decent a swing with her left arm, it would have been better than nothing.

"I already helped you steal from my place of employment... I don't think the courts would count me as a very good voice. Not that it really matters."

They went inside the shattered door and closed what was left of it behind them after letting York in. Gazing up the stairwell, Mila realized that there had to be dozens of stories. Any floor could be a disaster, especially if more of those things were in here. Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful.

Mila had completely understood Sam's jokes, and even laughed a little, but he must not have thought she'd gotten it. He was making slow progress, so she tried to keep step with him so that he wouldn't get left behind. Even York was going a little faster; again, probably because of the four-legged advantage. She noticed his wincing and tried to distract him from thinking about his leg.

"The cake is always a lie, Sam. But maybe there'll be peelz here," she said, then cracked up laughing at herself.

"Shh-shh-shhh," Sam said stubbornly. "I've seen this movie. In a minute Louis will attack you for saying it."

No one attacked.

"One thing I don't get, right, is how they take all those pills in one go and don't die!" Sam shook his head as they rounded another flight of the staircase. "Still, this better not be Left for dooomed. If I see a tank I will kill myself first."

The flight came to a stop on a flat corridor, with Sam unsure of which direction to go in. "I reckon we should head for the air traffic control. They have radios. And there's no way we can get out of here by foot or just generally on the ground."

"Hey...Mila? Thanks for not leaving me to die. Even after I just shat all over religion. And my sanity." Sam tried a smile at her, "It was a brave thing to do, trying to defend me like that. In the words of the Heavy: YOU DID WELL!"

"Oh man. I really hope this virus doesn't make "special" uh...wreakers is what they called 'em? Ugh. I was bad enough at that game; in real life I'd be dead in a heartbeat. Not a very good Zoey type, I guess, but then again a few aspirin aren't going to be enough to let me use my arm right anytime soon..."

Mila stopped at the corridor and looked down each direction. Neither gave any clue as to what lay beyond. "ATC. Good idea. Plus it'll give us a better view of what's safe to travel and what isn't if we absolutely have to go back down to ground level at all."

She arbitrarily chose to go down the right side of the corridor but stopped when she realized that Sam wasn't following. Instead, he thanked her. And made another video game joke. "I never really got into Team Fortress, but you're welcome. Thanks for picking up where I left off. That racer would have been chewing on my skull if you hadn't jumped in."

She started to walk forward again but then paused shortly after. "Oh, and don't worry about the rant. I'm agnostic," she said, and smiled back.

The floor Sam and Mila are on give them a good view of the surrounding area. They are close to the airport, and only have the parking garage and parking lot to get past. The military seems to be making an attack to assist the downed chopper finally, rallying a few Humvees and a Bradley to help out. The military seems to be staged in the parking lot, with support units with sniper rifles and missile launchers in the garage. Mila and Sam are in a skyscraper in the city, with various skyscrapers everywhere. The office seems to be empty, though the place is slightly trashed but gives the appearance of only recently being abandoned.

Meanwhile, outside, the surviving Guardsmen have fled inside and are coming up the elevator. Four survivors rush onto the same floor, and one throws a few grenades in the elevator after sending it down five floors, so the elevator will be unusable. "It's hell out there. There are people being shot." "By who, man? The Wreakers ain't doing it." "Who knows." The Guardsmen are talking as they exit. One pulls out an M9 pistol and presses it into Sam's hands. "You can shoot dude, hold that." One approaches Mila. "Lady, this is gonna hurt, but we don't have much time." He grabs Mila's arm, and pushes it back into place with a hard push and a pop. "Alright, let's go. We're getting evaced if we get to the next building over and can get to the roof. This building is too tiny."

They lead the way to a stairwell, where they begin to lead Sam and Mila to the roof, where they explain they hope to attach a zip-line to get across to the other roof using rope, a steering wheel, and a grappling hook. All in all, it doesn't seem like a good plan, and one openly suggests that Mila and Sam think of a better idea if possible.

Outskirts of Oklahoma City, OK1:40 p.m. CST

There is an electronic airport board showing incoming and departing flights and estimated times of arrivals. There are flights to Washington D.C., Tennessee, Arizona, Utah, California, Maine, and Iowa. More refugees keep entering the camp. There are also steady military convoys exiting the base.

Suddenly, the Sergeant from the chopper ride approaches Daniel. "Hey man, I can take you out to look for your family. I got a Humvee and some guys want to help. We already evacuated most of our families, so we thought we'd help you find yours," he says, smiling nervously.

"Oh holy sweet mother of fuck..." The popping in of Mila's arm took her breath away, and she had to lean against a nearby wall for a few moments before she could continue. When she'd recovered, she leaned her back and shoulders against the wall and took several deep breaths to make sure she was steady enough, then followed the quartet of Guardsmen slowly, shuffling her feet as she went. Experimentally, she tried moving her arm to test its range of motion, and found that she was able to complete a rotation with minimal pain, the worst being when her arm was at the top of the circle.

As they made the sluggish trudge up the rest of the stairs toward the roof, Mila listened to the plan with heightened skepticism. "Well McGyver, while not exactly up to safety code to begin with, your plan has one little flaw. Canines can't hold onto steering wheels. Not to mention how the heck are we going to get the wheel back up to the others once the first person has gone down? There has to be another way. Maybe a service ladder or something? It really depends how long of a distance there is between the buildings though," she said after turning to the Guardsman who had just finished the explanation.